Only Looking at You
by lakeia
Summary: Edward makes some observations about a certain shy, human girl.


**Title**: Only Looking at You

**Rating**: K

**Characters**: Edward Cullen/Angela Weber

**Timeline**: Pre-Twilight/ Twilight AU

**Summary**: Edward makes some observations about a certain shy, human girl.

**Disclaimer**: All characters that belong to Stephenie Meyer belong to Stephenie Meyer, I'm just borrowing.

**Notes**: I decided that I wanted to write one more one-shot/drabble type piece for E/A before I switch to my Jacob/Bella hat for my multi-chapter fic, _Cold (But I'm Still Here)_. I've neglected it long enough. This piece is short and has not been beta'ed so all mistakes (if any) are my own.

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He knew it was wrong to be here; to allow his infatuation with the human girl to get the best of him when no good could come from his insistent longing. His predicament was not only unorthodox but it offered no real resolution and even though he fully understood this, he was unable to shake the intense desire he had to be near her.

It showed rash and careless behavior on his part.

Not only was he exposing her to possible dangers by showing such an interest, but he was also taking the chance of being seen in the well lit, suburban neighborhood. With the level of irrationality he'd displayed thus far, hiding out in the brush by her home wasn't that big of a stretch because, though it was wrong, the truth of the matter still remained.

Being near Angela Weber gave him some semblance of purpose.

She intrigued him and after living for over a hundred years inside the heads of others and finding nothing of value, the rarity of that fact had awakened something within him—_something human_.

He wasn't ready to walk away from that feeling just yet.

So he waited.

He waited like he'd done for the past three weeks now and felt that same jolt of excitement as he had the first time, when she emerged from the house. In her hands were the usual composition book and pen. He leaned in just a bit closer as she took her seat on small, white swing near the edge of the porch and began to write.

It was wrong of him to spy on her while she wrote down her inner most thoughts and he often chastised himself for it, but he couldn't deny that he enjoyed getting glimpses of this side of her. He liked discovering things about her that he never would have known by reading her thoughts at school.

The horrible part was that once upon a time, he believed that he knew Angela—that he knew who she really was. How could he not make the assumption when, like everyone else, her thoughts were not shielded from him? In this instance, he believed his telepathy actual hindered more than helped because he found that he was too quick to lump any human he met into one group, and even though Angela was nice, sweet and all those things, he'd regrettably done the same with her.

It was hasty and foolish; his assumptions, and never was he more happy to be proven wrong.

Angela was selfless.

Unlike most teenagers, she didn't worry about tedious things such as fitting into a particular clique, but questioned how exactly she stood out. During her silent musing, he often found that she asked herself things that had nothing to do with what she wanted or needed, but how she could accommodate the people most important to her. Whether it involved her little brothers; her mother or father; even the trite, Jessica Stanley who had a birthday coming up soon; Angela often thought of ways in which to bring a smile to their faces and _that _in return made her happy.

She was very much a caretaker.

It was a role that she took on not only in her relationships with friends, but also within her household and she didn't mind in the least because to her, that's what families do for each other.

Edward understood the concept.

When everything he once knew slowly faded away, all he had left was his new family. Carlisle instilled in him the importance of such and he saw those same values in Angela and knew that she took nothing in her life for granted. He smiled on more than one occasion at the fact that they _did _have something in common—a certain kinship that bonded them and allowed him to fantasize for one fleeting moment that if he told her what he truly was; she wouldn't run away in fear.

She didn't muse about him in her journal, for which he was a little saddened. It wasn't that he hadn't heard a few stray thoughts in which he was featured, but a part of him was just curious to know if he was her mind almost as much as she was on his. Obviously, he was not, but it didn't stop him from testing the waters just a bit.

He said hello to her every now and then, and though she remained calm on the outside, inside she was like all the others with the initial appreciation of his physicality, yet unlike them, she actually wondered about his well being—if he was indeed as lonely as he appeared. He found it strange; her worrying, but endearing all the same.

_A human girl worrying about the well-being of vampire, _he thought.

They were for the most part, indestructible and even though she didn't know that, he found it sweet that she cared.

He liked the feeling of having someone outside of his family show an interest and genuinely mean what they say. Angela's mind was truly kind and Edward, being a young man from another time; appreciated the sincerity that she possessed in such spades.

She was a _**lady**_ in every sense of the word, and he was quick to discover that he wanted nothing more than to be the lucky man that she claimed as her own.

She turned around so unexpectedly that he wasn't prepared to retreat. So caught up in his own thoughts—his thoughts of her—that he was unable to conceal himself in time to avoid her gaze.

Dark brown eyes locked on ocher colored ones and he just couldn't look away.

In an instant, he knew that she knew.

How could she not?

She was looking out at the world, just trying to find her place, while he knew with certainty where he belonged.

It was with her.

After years of waiting, he was only looking at her.


End file.
